White Lights
by sentinel10
Summary: Sometimes fairytales don't last... AU
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Barefoot, she pads through the quiet two-storey home. The wooden floor boards are cool under her feet as her hand slowly guides her down the dark hallway toward the newly renovated bathroom.

The original bathroom had been a sight. Her husband had decided immediately after buying the house that both this and the kitchen downstairs would need to be replaced. So on his down time he had tore the entire thing apart, re-plumbed the exposed pipes and replaced the former light brown tiles to an off white. At her request he'd also found an antique wooden bench and sink set, and purchased a stand alone tub with shower over hang.

Relieving herself and washing her hands, she cocks her head to the side and listens.

The low hum of crickets chirp outside, the darkness encouraging their choir of songs among the dense trees and forestry surrounding the house. Beyond that, only the soft click of ceiling fans accompany a quiet groan of a wicker chair. The night air is moist, humidity collecting within the walls of the small house; the assistance of open windows and fans circulating, fight hard to cool the inside.

Rubbing semi wet hands on her bare legs she makes her way downstairs and towards the back porch. Unhinging the latch of the French doors she pulls aside the sheer curtain and steps outside.

Her husband sits in a wicker chair, his lit phone clutched in one palm; a beer in the other. Smiling, she runs her hand along his smooth back and rests her chin on the crown of his head. His soft scent of aftershave and sweat serve to comfort her as she enjoys the heat of his skin under her fingers.

"Hey. I didn't mean to wake you," he murmurs, enjoying the feel of her hands toying with his hair and bare skin.

"You didn't wake me, I needed to pee," she sighs as she wraps her arms around his neck. "What are you doing out here?"

"Couldn't sleep," he explains as he takes a sip of his beer and places it down on the small glass table. Clasping her wrist, he pulls her body out from behind him, draping her on his lap.

Leah feels breathless as she stares into those dark green eyes. They're stormy, like the rain clouds currently building on the horizon; filled with swirling emotions that make her stomach clench and her heart flutter. She does nothing but stare at him, her arm draped over his shoulder, fingers playing with his nape. The small frown on his lips makes her want to kiss him; so she does exactly that.

Softly, only barely touching, she brushes her mouth against his. His fingers climb from her calf to over her knee, stopping to finger a small childhood scar on the inside of her thigh. He starts to smile ever so slightly.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," she hums against his warm mouth, as a gust of air ruffles over her exposed skin. A low rumble sounds in the distance. The horizon lights up in a flash; before rumbling again in threat.

"It's gonna rain, pretty girl. Let's get you inside."

Leading her inside, Edward grabs his phone, laying it out on the kitchen bench as they pass by. Warm air circulates around the living room, the fan clinking to its normal beat.

Sitting her on the edge of their bed, Edward pulls at the hem of her dark blue tank, peeling it over her olive skin until she is bare except for the cotton pants she wears. Her midnight black hair is tied back, leaving only soft tendrils to shape her face. Her eyes, guarded by dark lashes and high cheek bones, leave him mesmerised.

His fingers run over the smooth skin of her face, brushing those loose tendrils away so he can see her. She still steals his breath away, just as she had the first night her saw her standing on a curbside in Alabama with a group of friends. She is everything a man can want. Beautiful, strong-willed, energetic and kind.

He loves her more than life itself; because without her he wouldn't be alive; but merely just existing.

Her hooded slate eyes watch him as he shucks himself from his cargo shorts, slowly letting the material drop to the floorboards underfoot. She doesn't waste time, crawling backwards toward the headboard, allowing him to follow.

With his weight over her and his mouth on hers, he kisses her hard. Her hands wind into his hair as her legs part and make room for him. His hard lines press into her softer body, his chest flush with her, their hearts resting together.

"I love you," he whispers against her neck, his hand clutching tightly on her hip. "Don't ever forget that. No matter how far I go, no matter how dark life becomes, I will always come back to you."

She moans with need as her legs wrap around him, drawing him closer. "I won't. I love you, too," she gasps, feeling him enter her with trepidation and love. "So much."

She clutches his back, her hips raising to meet his purposeful thrusts in a synchronized rhythm; a rhythm her heart can not forget. She has so much to be thankful for. A loving husband, a home, family and friends she loves.

His fingers squeeze painfully against her thigh, causing her to cry out into the darkness of their humid bedroom. His mouth takes the opportunity of her arched neck; instantly nipping and sucking her warm skin.

Sweat beads over both their bodies, making their movements slick and desperate. She tightens her hold on him as his muscles clench and flex under her palms, her pleasure also becoming his.

"Oh God," Leah cries, her nails sinking into his biceps. Her back arches, her breasts mashing against his solid chest.

"Leah!" He hisses back breathlessly, teeth clenching. With his hips surging forward for the last time, they both fall apart; together.

Collapsing over her, he lays panting, his heated breath rolling over her neck and shoulder.

She hums quietly as her body buzzes; a usual after effect of their lovemaking. Her muscles feel sore but content. She does nothing but smile, soothing his back and allowing his breath to slow and calm.

As Edward turns them, pulling her into his side, the soft patter of raindrops began.

...


	2. Chapter 2

Edward watches as Leah picks up the small child.

She holds him expertly against her chest, his small body still positioned as if he were inside a womb.

He is small. Smaller than Edward remembers a new born to be. Weighing in at six pounds is expected, but he's a little fighter and he knows his nephew will be a monster of a kid in no time.

With her hand on the child's back, his heart strings tighten as his wife whispers words of love and gently coddles the brand new being.

He wonders what their future children will be like. Will their hair be like their mothers, dark and silky, or like his, an untameable sunburnt brown. Will they have her eyes, her soft shaped brows and her high arched feet? Will they enjoy Christmas as much as her, or litter the house in decorations for the Fourth of July like he and his sibling had?

He contemplates still as she moves toward him, resting between his legs on the single recliner. She makes sure she is secure in her seating before she moves the child from her shoulder to her elbow, nuzzling him against her body.

Edward kisses her head as he peeks over and peels the baby blue wrap backwards to inspect his nephew. Closed eyes, pink cheeks and a pouting mouth are all he can see. The child grumbles but quickly settles as his wife pats the baby's backside. His tiny fingers clutch the blanket like a joey in the pouch of its Kangaroo mother.

"He's perfect," Leah whispers to her sister-in-law, who merely watches on with a smile and tired eyes.

Alice's labour had been quick but her small body had not taken well to the pain. Having been moved to the operating table for an emergency c-section at the last minute terrified both new parents. She hadn't even been able to hold her son until two days after his birth. Jasper had insisted he watch over both his fiancee and new born the entire time.

When they'd arrived to meet the newest addition Edward embraced his brother-in-law to be, congratulating him, before allowing him to leave to shower and collect clothes from home.

"Isn't he?" Leah reiterates as she looks back at her husband who is still perched over her shoulder, his warm arm wrapped around both her and the child.

"He is," Edward chuckles, allowing the newborn to grasp his finger. He's stronger than Edward expects.

"He likes you," Alice comments as she watches Leah run her index finger over his puffy cheek.

"I like him, too," Leah chuckles as she turns her head to kiss her husband and then the child's forehead. He smells so fresh and pretty, so she inhales the scent of his hair and sighs happily.

So with ten little fingers and ten perfect toes his sister names him Timothy Aiden Hale.

As they leave the hospital he can't help but notice the change in his wife. She looks blissful, unaware as he watches her intently. He doesn't want to jump the gun so he allows her to soak in the happiness of the new addition to the family. He knows her mind is working over time.

"I want one," she blurts in the middle of dinner, causing him to choke on his green beans. He wipes his mouth with a napkin, takes a sip of his beer and arches an eyebrow at her.

She blushes, her eyes trained on her plate as she pushes around her food. He can see her embarrassment and plays it out.

"One what, exactly?"

Taking another sip of his beer he grins at the glowering look she sends him.

"You know damn well, Edward Anthony Cullen!"

He chuckles at her frustrated tone, knowing she knows, he knows, exactly what she's taking about. The use of his full name from her lips has him semi-erect and he adjusts his shorts.

She slumps in her chair in defeat, her food long forgotten. Her mouth opens and shuts several times before she speaks.

"I know it'll be tough. Especially when you're deployed again. But I want one." Her voice is small, unsure if he shares in the desire for a family so soon.

The original plan had been to wait until his last call of duty, but holding Timothy in her arms has made her re-evaluate. Edward still had three years left of service before he could retire with indefinite benefits and it now felt like a life time away.

"I want a baby. A baby of our own."

She finally looks at him, her grey eyes watery with unshed tears.

He rubs a hand over his face. There's no doubt he wants to start a family but with his deployment coming up within the next few months, he's not sure if it is the best idea.

He doesn't want to miss out on a single moment of his potential child's life, but being an emergency surgeon in the military could mean a call out at any time. With tours in both Iraq and Afghanistan under his belt, he knows his experience in war zones is desired by his superiors, making him the ideal candidate.

He stands and makes his way around the table and crouches. He slips his hand over hers and squeezes. "Leah," he huffs, his eyes trained on their entwined hands. "When I married you, I promised you that I would do everything a husband could do for his wife. I promised to make and _keep_ you happy."

Leah responds by clutching at his hand. "And I promised you I'd be patient."

He smirks at her statement and rises, pulling her from the chair and into his arms. His fingers splay on her face and he kisses her nose. "Now we both know, patience is not your virtue."

She shoves against his stomach and smiles up at him. "You're a jerk."

He laughs loudly and his eyes sparkle, as his hands sit on her slim waist. "I know. Come on," he urges, pulling her toward the stairs. "Let's go make you happy."

...


	3. Chapter 3

The wipers fight hard to move the southern afternoon rain which continues to pelt the windscreen of his truck. With the wetter months descending upon them he is grateful for remembering the tarp covering the planks of wood on the tray.

With an idea in his head, he began planning. The old existing decking joined to the back of the house was in dire need of replacing. So after googling several sets of designs, his mind was made up. His wife had been sceptical when he showed her the image on his cell, until he silently motioned toward the kitchen he'd built from scratch. She merely rolled her eyes, wished him luck, and set off to work that morning.

Pulling into the drive, he finds that Leah's car is already parked up. Checking his watch he frowns; she's home a whole two hours early.

Dashing toward the front porch with a newspaper haphazardly covering his head from the rain, he stands at the door to remove his boots. He'll let the rain slow before he attempts to move the dry wood to the shed out back.

Walking inside he finds his wife on the couch with a pint of ice cream. She looks at him guiltily as she stares from the TV to him, like she's been caught doing something he doesn't allow. Her almond shaped eyes are as big as dinner plates.

"You're home early," he smiles, digging in his jeans to throw his wallet on the counter as well as several receipts from the hardware store.

Taking another scoop of ice cream into her mouth she nods. "We were sent home early. There was a leek in my classroom, probably from all this stupid rain, and they deemed it unsafe."

"Lucky you," Edward chuckles, taking the spoon from her fingers.

"Hey," she complains, pulling the container away from him before he can grasp a scoop of chocolatey deliciousness.

"What?" He laughs, noticing her frown. "You can't share with me? Your poor husband, who hasn't eaten since breakfast."

"But it's my favourite." She's pouting and he can't help but tease.

"Awww... baby. I'm sorry. I promise to only have a little bit."

She glances at him and then the tub in contemplation. "Only a little."

She screams as he digs the largest chunk he can manage on the spoon and shoves it straight into his mouth. "Edward!"

"Hmm...," he hums in delight, snatching the container from her hands and placing it on the coffee table along with the spoon. He kisses her with rigour before she can say another word. "...delicious."

Pulling away she flicks his ear. "You are such an ass-hat."

"I know." He leans in for another kiss and her mouth presses eagerly against his this time.

He's gloating, as her body moves over his, her knees resting on either side of his thighs. She holds his face in her palms, parting her mouth with his. Her plush lips dance against his, alternating between pecks and longer drawn out kisses.

His palms wander the length of her thighs before he squeezes her ass tightly and pulls her closer. He swallows her moan as his fingers work over her tight flesh, easily thrusting her down onto his groin. She wriggles in need before she slows the pace.

He groans in protest as she moves away to stand in front of him. That is, until he watches in awe as her slender fingers slide over the knot and begin to push the silk robe over her shoulders. He wants to burn the image into his retinas. He wants to remember the image of her skin, the dip of her hips, the soft swell of her stomach and breasts. She's all woman, and all his.

He moves to the edge of the couch, placing both hands on her hips to drag her closer. His lips start at her pant line, slowly moving across the lace edge from left to right. Her slender fingers brush through his hair as his lips move north, over her stomach.

Drifting back down, he kisses each hip as his fingers brush the inside of her thighs. Grasping the centre of the cotton, he groans as he peels the material down to her knees and then past her ankles. Allowing her to step from them, he uses his palms to run a gentle path on the outside of her sturdy legs.

"Edward," she moans as his palms kneed her skin greedily. "Please."

He gently turns her around as he reaches for his belt. He's so aroused that he can't help but hiss as his jeans and boxers fall toward the floor. He doesn't even need a moment to contemplate as he pulls her down onto his lap.

"Come here, honey," he teases as he puts an arm around her waist and pulls her backwards.

She's a little off balance but he helps assist her by holding himself still in his fist.

They both groan as she gently lowers herself down while he pushes up. She's already panting with need and Edward can feel how much she wants him. She's warm, wet and ready for him completely.

He leans forward to kiss her spine and he feels a shudder move under her skin. She tastes of salt. Of sweetness. And of the southern rain.

Squeezing her hands, he places them both on top of her head.

"Don't move them."

His hands snake over her body and he roughly squeezes her breasts, pinching and plucking her to a perfect tune. He wants to roll the peaks around his mouth but knows with her back to him, it's near impossible. He kisses her shoulder blade instead, kneading her skin against his mouth.

She wriggles in need, her hands clutching the dark tresses of her hair as she fights not to move, awaiting the next instruction.

He kisses her neck and clutches her hip. "Ride me, baby. Keep those hands up."

Leah shivers again, though this time her knees strengthen allowing her to rise up.

"So. beautiful."

He bites his lower lip into his mouth as he watches her with hooded eyes. She repeats the motion; whimpers and sharp breaths leaving her perfect mouth. Her hands claw at her scalp, her back arching in the most beautiful of angles.

"Yes," she hisses out, bouncing with a little more rigour. He can feel himself sharply hitting the soft walls inside her as she moves harder, presses down, and repeats.

She's so close and he's riding just behind her on the torrents of their lovemaking. The sounds of bare wet skin does nothing to deter them from the impending high.

Pulling her flush against his chest he raises up in quick succession, pressing himself impossibly deeper inside of her. She screeches in surprise, her squeals of pleasure rocking through him as they hit his ears. He's so close he can feel himself tighten.

"Edward, oh oh. Fuck," she howls as she reaches her orgasm, her filled sex fluttering around him.

He raises up once more, grasping her waist closer as if she were about to run, and pours himself into her.

They're both breathing hard, bodies now slumped. He pulls her back just a little so he's supporting her weight and her hands reach back to touch him. He kisses her neck, her shoulder and her ear.

"That was the sexist thing ever," he whispers huskily in her ear, causing her to snort.

She turns her head, her palm reaching up to stroke his cheek. She leans toward him and kisses his mouth. It's soft and delicate and just what he needs.

...

The rain falls steadily into the night, cooling the house further.

Edward finds her in the kitchen, the radio playing and her hands buried in bubbles. Her hair is tied high on her head allowing him to see the deliciously slender arch of her neck. The old shirt she wears is loose at the collar, exposing the top of her spine to his eyes.

He doesn't waste a moment more and slides his arms around her. His lips find her bronzed skin and he places a wet kiss against her spine, his tongue gently tasting each exposed vertebrae.

"Edward...," she sighs, her breath labouring.

"God. The way you say my name..." he whispers, running his fingertips across her lower stomach. Her skin is silky and soft, enticing the monster inside of him. He could never have his fill of her.

The day he married her was the happiest day of his life.

It was a small ceremony with just his parents, his sister and Leah's aunt Ruth. An official celebrant had met them at O'Dover park and married them on a Thursday afternoon in September. With her in white lace, he married the woman of his dreams.

Later they'd met up with friends who were waiting at a small restaurant nearby. Edward invited some solider buddies while Leah invited her teacher friend, Lauren. It was an intimate affair of hushed tones, smiles and laughter. It was the day he realised he could never live without her.

"Dance with me," he murmurs, reaching toward the old radio and turning the volume up.

She wipes her hands on a towel and turns, her back resting against the sink, a perfect eyebrow arched. She wants to laugh at the serious expression marring his face, but all she does is nod, and takes his outstretched hand.

With bare feet they pad around the small kitchen. His hand stretches wide over her waist, his thumb rubbing her hip, while the other entangles her hand. She looks up at him and smiles softly as he sings along with the song, his eyes never leaving hers.

Pausing, she reaches up for a kiss, before allowing him to sway them delicately.

'_But when she gets weary, try a little tenderness, yeah, yeah.'_

"Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Cullen?" Leah asks as she feels his hand wander across her lower back. He really can't sing but she doesn't mind.

"Why? Is it working, Mrs. Cullen?" He asks quietly.

"Not at all," she grins, kissing his shoulder and laying her head there.

'_You won't regret it, no, no. Some girls they don't forget it.'_

"I used to watch my parents dance in the kitchen in the middle of the night. I told myself when I grew up, I was going to find someone to do that very same thing with. They were so happy."

She nods as she moves her arms to hug him closer.

"It was like... Nothing could touch them. Nothing could break what they had built for themselves. In that kitchen, in the middle of the night, it was just them and their love for each other."

Pulling away, Leah reaches up to touch her husband's face. He is the sweetest man she's ever known. Gently she tiptoes to kiss his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck as he squeezes her waist.

"Well, you're lucky you found me then."

Kissing her nose, he agrees. "The luckiest bastard in the whole world."


	4. Chapter 4

"Esme, you really don't have to do that,"

The honey blonde woman barely offers her a glance as Leah speaks.

"It's not that I don't appreciated it though. Any help in the kitchen is a miracle around here."

Esme wipes her hands on a tea towel before turning to her daughter-in-law. Grasping the glass of red from the bench, the older woman smiles. She knows her son is about as useful in the kitchen, as a bull with tits.

"It's no problem, dear. After all, you have been keeping my son alive. The boy wouldn't know the difference between a parsnip and a beetroot."

Leah laughs, shaking her head as she washes the greens in the sink. This is why she loves Esme. "You're right. I still don't know how he survived college."

"Thai food and pizza," Edward interrupts, his arms filled with paper bags loaded with fireworks. "I was lucky they were only a block away from the dorms." He smiles at his mother, kissing her first on the cheek and then quickly pecking his wife's lips.

"Nice to see you still enjoy blowing things up," his mother comments as she begins dicing the cooled potatoes for the salad. She recalls her son as a young boy; buzzing with excitement as his father set up the colourful dynamite. Alice had been the same; both her children loving the holiday.

"Don't worry mom. I got this. Timothy's gonna love it. It's his first Fourth of July and I want it to be the best night of his life." He catches his wife's eye roll. After decorating the back yard in red, white and blue streamers he'd raced into town to secure his usual payload.

"Honey, Tim is three weeks old. I'm pretty sure Alice isn't going to allow you to damage his ear drums with your spectacular display."

Edward tutts. "Have you no faith in me, woman o' mine? That's why I got these." He pulls out a miniature version of sound proof ear muffs and smirks. "Alice won't be able to deny me, now. Speaking of which, where is the little guy?"

Sitting the bags on the back porch, he strolls back into the kitchen to wash his hands. Leah slaps his hand as he reaches for a celery stalk.

"Alice is feeding Timothy in our room. She's going to try put him down before the festivities start."

...

Once Jasper arrives, Edward slips into his element. He's in charge of the dynamite while Jasper is in charge of the grill. Leah sits feeding Timothy a bottle of expressed milk, stroking his smooth cheek and kissing his forehead. Alice sits in the lawn chair lazily watching her son and sister-in-law.

"You're so good with him," Alice smiles.

"I hope so," Leah whispers back, glancing at her child-like husband who is deleriously setting up the fireworks on the large lawn. She chuckles at his antics.

"So when can I expect another grandbaby," Esme smiles as she places the tray of ice tea on the small garden table.

"Defintely not from me. I've shut shop. No one is getting between these legs ever again," Alice says in all seriousness, making the group of women laugh.

"But you make such great looking kids," Leah pouts as she places Tim's bottle down and gently rocks him over her shoulder. He burps softly and she checks her shoulder just in case.

Alice chuckles, "Well you are right, we do make pretty babies. Another one isn't out of the cards completely. What about you and my brother? I mean, thinking of S-E-X and Edward in the same sentence is disturbing, but you can't tell me you haven't thought about it."

Leah smiles. "We've decided to try."

"Really?" Alice blurts out, her eyes bulging a little.

"Yeah. After all, Tim here's going to need a little cousin to play with whiles he's growing up."

The night rolls on and Edwards display doesn't disappoint. The baby is impartial to the bright lights in the sky and soon falls asleep with his ear muffs on. Alice laughs at Edwards disappointed face and allows Esme to take the baby inside the house.

"Cheer up, baby," Leah laughs as she presses against her husbands frown lines. "There's always next year."

"How could he not love it?" Edward pouts as he rubs his cheek against his wife's palm.

"Awww, honey," Leah mocks, throwing her arms around him. "If it's any consolation, I love it." She whispers as another line shoots up into the nights sky.

They both look up as a magnificent blue hue explodes into flower, and showers down above them. Soon after; reds, whites and greens cover the sky.

"Happy Fourth of July, baby."

...

Sweat beads at his temples as he measures up a plank. The pencil draws quick lines across the cedar wood before he moves to retrieve the saw from his tool box.

On a downward angle he places the saw to the wood, using his strength to cut long smooth lines into its edge. With the deck half finished he works a little bit faster each day. The sun beats down on his bare back but he enjoys it's warmth. He's never been one for the colder climates, even though his wife had a fascination with snow.

Hearing a car pull into the drive, he grabs a rag to wipe the built up sweat from his forehead. Running it over his hair he turns lazily to find Leah and Lauren hoping from the sedan.

"Hey, girls," Edward grins, as both women make their way toward him. Their hands are filled with shopping bags so he offers to take them inside.

"And get sweat all over them? No thank you, sir," Leah replies shaking her head.

"What sweat?"

She suddenly shrieks as Edward wraps her in a hug from behind, rubbing his sweat covered body over her clothes and kissing her neck.

"EDWARD!"

"Oh," he grins evilly, "You meant _that_ sweat."

Lauren rolls her eyes. "You two make me sick!" she comments playfully. "Why don't you get a room?"

"Hmm.." Edward teases, "Sounds good to me."

"Edward Cullen. You have two seconds to let go of me." His wife says sternly.

He doesn't want to comply, but with a sigh, releases his hold on her.

She smacks his shoulder, before smiling and carefully leaning forward to kiss his mouth. He groans at the contact, making a show for Lauren. He finds it hilarious teasing the blonde haired woman.

"Gross!" Lauren cries as she covers her eyes.

"Edward honey, stop making my friends uncomfortable," Leah grins as she winks at her husband and sashays toward the front door.

Edward chuckles as he catches Lauren watching the sway of his wife's hips. It doesn't take a scientist to figure out that Lauren has a tiny crush on his wife. Hell, he'd be offended if she didn't. Even though Lauren and her girlfriend Angela loved each other, and had been together for ten years, his wife was irresistible.

"How's Angie?" He asks with a smirk on his lips.

Lauren snaps out of her daze and stares at him in suspicion. "She's good. She's taken Tyler to visit her parents in Detroit."

Tyler had been adopted by the pair a few years back. He was a good kid, smart, well balanced, and loved both his mom's. At eight years old, he already understood the dynamic of his little family and accepted it just the same.

"Make sure you bring him round next time. I've got a whole bunch of bikes in the garage that he might be interested in."

Nodding, Lauren makes her way into the house, offering a 'I'm sure he'd love that,' before disappearing behind his wife.

...


	5. Chapter 5

Wrapping a towel around his hips he brushes a hand through his wet hair. It does nothing but flop back onto his forehead so he carefully brushes it backward.

As he turns he finds his wife propped against the door, eyeing him suspiciously.

"What?" He grins as he reaches for a toothbrush and covers it in paste. His wife doesn't answer but continues to watch him as he foams his teeth. He catches her eyes briefly and tries to smile.

Spitting out the paste he rinses his mouth and places the brush back in the cup. He growls as he snares her wrist and pulls her flush against his body. She remains silent, though a stray smile tugs at her lips.

He leans forward, brushing there noses together, before claiming her mouth. Squeezing her hips he pulls her forward. He swallows her moan as she reaches up to wrap her arms around his neck.

"How did I end up with someone so beautiful," her full mouth whispers between kisses.

Chuckling, Edward bends to reach for her thighs, and hoists her onto his waist. It's a position they've been in before and she automatically locks her ankles behind him.

"I could say the same," he breathes into her mouth as his hands hold her thighs around him. Her scent makes him dizzy. The concoction of sweet water and apples, filling his lungs till they burst. Even her tongue is sweet as it lazily draws patterns against his own.

Before long his towel and her bed shirt are nothing but crumpled material on the floor.

...

Making two glasses of ice tea, Leah sits at the table, opposite her aunt. Ruth Young had been, for the last twenty-eight years, the only biological family Leah had known. The older sister of her mother, her provider and ultimately her saviour in the long run.

Ruth had taken her in and cared for her like she was her own. Her aunt had never been secretive of who her real parents had been and what had happened to them when she was young. Leah appreciated her honesty over the years.

"Where's your husband?" Ruth asks, a coy smile playing on her thin lips.

"Visiting his mother. I told him it would be a good idea. You wanted to talk, it sounded serious and Edward would only... serve to distract us."

Snorting, Ruth shook her head. "That boy is really something. I remember when he came to the house, shaking like a leaf. I swear he almost passed out in relief when you accepted his dinner request."

Leah can't help but smile. Her husband had been a mess on their first date. A bumbling mess of nerves and awkward sighs. It wasn't until she kissed him goodnight that he beamed with confidence and asked immediately if she would like to have lunch the following day. He was gorgeous, shy and she couldn't refuse.

Taking a sip of the tea, Ruth smiles. Reaching into her purse she pulls a stack of folded papers and slides them across the table.

Leah's eyebrows raise as she grabs the papers and uncurls them.

"I received a call from LaPush last week. Seems as though the tribal council is going through a change in management and have begun to sort through the mountains of mess the last council left behind. As you know, your mother and I grew up in Makah, but your father was a purebred Quileute man. Because of your fathers standing within the tribe, you are just as much Quileute, as you are Makah, whether you live there or not."

Leah listens as she unclips a Polaroid photo of a two storey ranch from the papers. She'd lived in the house for the first three years of her life - only seeing it twice since then.

"So anyway, the council has begun issuing title claims for the houses on the reservation. Something about keeping their records accurate. As you know, your parents lived on the reservation, with you, in that house. Seeing as you are the only living relative left of Harry Clearwater, the council deemed it necessary to assign the home to his only daughter."

Leah's hands shake as she reads through the papers. Her name is sprawled over them in new print, signed and sealed by the newly formed Quileute council.

"I don't understand," she whispers as her fingers run over the tiny photo. "Are you saying the house is _mine_?"

"Yep," Ruth grins as she reaches for her nieces hand. "It is yours to do what you please. Obviously you cannot sell the house as the land still belongs to the tribe. And it is a little rundown from no one using it over the years. But... It's all yours. Your daddy would have wanted it that way."

...


End file.
